But I don’t have that luxury. I don’t even have a tenth
of Dr Andrew’s genius. And that class of attentive,
motivated, eager-to-pass-and-not-have-to-repeat-
another-year students are a far cry from the ones I
face on a daily basis now.
With the students I have, I can’t be Dr Andrew. I can’t
even be Dr Sharon Bong, a pillar of grace and dignity
in a storm of youthful (or in my case, prepubescent
and adolescent) emotion. She has the kind of
presence that commands attention without even
having to ask for it—whereas I’d be lucky to even have
my students notice I’ve walked into the classroom
and stand up, ready to greet me at the start of
every lesson.
“Eh, ‘cher, how long you been standing there ah?”
“Right? Right? ‘Cher, seriously la, it’s their fault …”
*students proceed to elaborate on teenage drama
going on in their lives*
(Bright side: after that intense lesson, where I probably
looked and sounded like Medusa on steroids, all
thirty-seven pieces of work were delivered to my
pigeon hole the very next day. Of course, by the
following week, any fear that I had struck had
vanished like Donald Trump’s credibility and I was
back to the proverbial fighting of academic fires.)
So I can’t be Dr Andrew or Dr Sharon; there’s just no
way, not with the students that have fallen under my
(sometimes questionable) care. I find myself emulating
Dr Helen Nesadurai on some days—somehow
becoming this calm, soothing, steady presence
amidst the turbulent waters of little humans dealing
with the changes of puberty. And trust me, those three
adjectives are hardly the right words to describe my
personality. I mean, anyone who knows me can attest
to that.
*me, continuing to remain completely ignored at the
front of the classroom, exercising my eyes with the
amount of times they roll up to the ceiling*
And then of course, comes the inevitable fall-out when
my students don’t have the common sense to realise
that certain pieces of homework need to be submitted
During a tutorial
session in the old
campus (2004). ▶
Never easy but life as a teacher has its own rewards (2018). ▼
73
“Long enough to endure your terribly exciting
conversation about [so-and-so] fighting with [so-
and-so] and trying to indirect her on Twitter and
InstaStory.”
because they are actually very necessary to pass the
subject. Once you’ve exploded at a ground-level class
of thirty-seven teenagers for not doing their important
assignments despite multiple reminders, your voice
straining so loudly that even teachers on the fourth
floor can hear every word you say in verbatim,
you can pretty much kiss any reputation of grace
and dignity goodbye.